My family and close friends are able to laugh with me now over the fact that I am "officially certifiable"...having been committed not once, but twice. When I do something silly now, I just tell them "You know I'm crazy..." to which they normally reply "Yep, certified."
It's nice to be able to joke about my time in the hospital, but my time there was no laughing matter.
Before I share my experience, I want to make absolutely clear that I believe that every piece of this journey was important and necessary. I NEEDED the time in the hospital to...to just STOP.
For a given number of days, I was safe. I was safe from myself. I had lots of positive influence. Multiple people asked how I felt all day every day.
In the hospital, "Are you okay?" was certainly the most asked question and made me stop and consider..."AM I okay?"
I began to answer that with "I'm going to be" and I can honestly say that now I believe that.
My first stay in the hospital was okay. It gave me time to stop and consider where I was. Honestly, I was in SUCH a dark place. I was initially upset that I did not receive more counseling while I was there, but, looking back... I'm not sure that I was in any shape to be counseled. My mind was clouded, my thoughts were dark. They kept me alive. That's about all they could do with me at that point. I really don't remember much about my time there. I was there long enough to let everyone start to process what was going on without the fear of me hurting myself again. Again, I was safe while I was there.
Several things happened during my first hospital stay that were very important to my survival. First and foremost, I was prescribed medication. I thank God everyday for the medications that keep me somewhat sane.
The first night I was there, a lady asked me why I was there and said that I didn't look like I belonged there. I told her that I certainly belonged there and she said "So you're crazy like the rest of us, you just hide it better than we do."
Yeah, I guess that's true.
The day before I left, another lady asked me why I was there and I showed her my still bandaged arms. She said, "You're gonna be okay honey. You have a light about you. Jesus just shines through you...even in here." I wish I could remember her name. I would like to thank her. She definitely saw something in me that I didn't. I didn't feel light...only darkness.
That darkness only got darker in the weeks that followed... which lead to my time in the second hospital...
but that's too much to deal with today.
Maybe tomorrow...
Much love and Big hugs!
K
It's nice to be able to joke about my time in the hospital, but my time there was no laughing matter.
Before I share my experience, I want to make absolutely clear that I believe that every piece of this journey was important and necessary. I NEEDED the time in the hospital to...to just STOP.
For a given number of days, I was safe. I was safe from myself. I had lots of positive influence. Multiple people asked how I felt all day every day.
In the hospital, "Are you okay?" was certainly the most asked question and made me stop and consider..."AM I okay?"
I began to answer that with "I'm going to be" and I can honestly say that now I believe that.
My first stay in the hospital was okay. It gave me time to stop and consider where I was. Honestly, I was in SUCH a dark place. I was initially upset that I did not receive more counseling while I was there, but, looking back... I'm not sure that I was in any shape to be counseled. My mind was clouded, my thoughts were dark. They kept me alive. That's about all they could do with me at that point. I really don't remember much about my time there. I was there long enough to let everyone start to process what was going on without the fear of me hurting myself again. Again, I was safe while I was there.
Several things happened during my first hospital stay that were very important to my survival. First and foremost, I was prescribed medication. I thank God everyday for the medications that keep me somewhat sane.
The first night I was there, a lady asked me why I was there and said that I didn't look like I belonged there. I told her that I certainly belonged there and she said "So you're crazy like the rest of us, you just hide it better than we do."
Yeah, I guess that's true.
The day before I left, another lady asked me why I was there and I showed her my still bandaged arms. She said, "You're gonna be okay honey. You have a light about you. Jesus just shines through you...even in here." I wish I could remember her name. I would like to thank her. She definitely saw something in me that I didn't. I didn't feel light...only darkness.
That darkness only got darker in the weeks that followed... which lead to my time in the second hospital...
but that's too much to deal with today.
Maybe tomorrow...
Much love and Big hugs!
K
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